It's a swinging time, anyone would tell you from Richman's lineup of tribute singers. All of them more than carry a tune, and none of them sound too much like Ol' Blue Eyes, but that is hardly the point. Their road shows are a tribute to the performance style, the singers and "swinging" music of the 1940s and 1950s. "Fly Me to the Moon," "I've Got You Under My Skin," "(Chicago is) My Kind of Town, "Mack the Knife" and "Luck Be a Lady," are included on the group's 66-song set list. They also sing "Happy Birthday" given their bookings at birthday parties - and retirement centers and occasionally Alzheimer's facilities.
The group's fliers declare, "Welcome Back to 1953. Live Entertainment for You!!" All that's missing, perhaps, are cigarettes, booze, the Las Vegas Strip - and international fame. But who needs that when you have a tuxedo, an open mic, recorded music, and a captive hungry audience who hangs on your every vocal phrasing? There's no lip-synching, just singing. And when the "Singing Stockbroker and His Friends" are done churning out "My Way" or "Summer Wind," they might get a kiss on the cheek or a date to dance.
"They all sound good - and he's smooth," said Morley Grossman, listening to Richman sing "When Somebody Loves You." Grossman brought his own food to the show: a corned beef sandwich. Looked like he was going to stay awhile. When the song and tape were over, Richman approached Grossman's nook. It was a set-up all the way.
"Sir, are you the one who ordered a stiff drink?"
Buffered with extra napkins, the audience member was noncommittal. Richman broke out his prop glass and pretended to dump it out. Grossman chuckled, as the singing host surveyed the packed room. "There are three seats left - they're all in the men's room!"
At the counter, Juan Bates was a satisfied store manager.
"I love this. People say it's classy, and it is," Bates said. "Does good business for us, too." Tuesday is bingo night, but on Mondays, the coffee, diet sodas, fries and grilled chicken sandwiches really move. "You should see the customers when they come in here."
Ah yes, the unsuspecting McDonald's customers who come in for an innocent Quarter-Pounder but find themselves in a swinging Twilight Zone.
"It's absolutely adorable," said Anita Miller of Pikesville. Normally, she's here Tuesdays for bingo, but her regular Monday bingo night fell through. "I just came in for a bite." She sat in the back of the restaurant, what could be called reserved seating. She waited to hear Mickey Light sing his coat-over-the-shoulder version of Sinatra. Miller thought of her late husband, Ted, and how much these old songs meant to him.
